


Perfect

by brianna441



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianna441/pseuds/brianna441
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little bit of smarm</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

## Perfect

#### by Shamaness

  
  
  
  
This story is a sequel to: 

* * *

The sky was overcast and, with the breeze coming off the ocean, the Florida morning was uncommonly cool. The tide was coming in as Jim walked out of the surf, his newly purchased board under his arm. Dressed in a black wetsuit that covered him from neck to mid-thigh, he was protected from both the cold of the water and the chill in the air. 

He moved towards what appeared to be a lump of plaid lying on the sand, smiling at the auburn curls he could see peeking out of the pile. 

"Sandburg!" he yelled as he got closer, his voice stern. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

The rest of the curly head appeared, a bright, innocent smile decorating the face. "Hey, man. How are the waves?" 

Jim jammed his board into the sand and stood over his lover, hands planted firmly on his hips. "Don't 'hey, man' me. You were supposed to watch from the house." He waved his hand to indicate the beach house they were using for their vacation. The deck that overlooked the beach fronted sliding glass doors that made up the entire wall. "You're gonna catch pneumonia out here!" 

"Well, for one thing, I don't have Sentinel eyesight. You may have noticed that in the past. So, from up there," he jerked his head to indicate the house, "I can't see a thing. Secondly, and you may also have noticed this, I am wrapped in every spare blanket we own. Underneath that, I have on my jacket, my scarf, sweats, thick socks and..." he held up his hand, wiggling his fingers, "...gloves. Add this thermos of fresh coffee and I'm as toasty as can be." 

He smiled up at the taller man, hoping his explanation would satisfy his over-protective lover. Seeing no crack in the stony expression, Blair sighed. "C'mon, Jim. We're on vacation, we're in Florida, we're on the beach. Cut me a break, huh?" 

Hearing the frustration in the younger man's voice, Jim crouched down in front of Blair and, reaching out to tuck some wind-blown locks behind the younger man's ears, smiled sadly. 

"How about cutting me a break? Your temperature was up again last night and I can still hear the congestion in your chest. " 

"But I'm feeling fine this morning. I took my antibiotics, like a good little boy, and I'm keeping myself warm." 

"Look, Chief, I know you're not helpless and you can take care of yourself. But I can't help it. I worry." Jim shrugged his shoulders, a contrite smile on his face. "Maybe it's that 'Blessed Protector' thing or maybe it's because I love you." He trailed his fingers down the freshly shaven check. "I just don't want you getting sick again, okay?" 

"I'm down with that, man. I don't want to get sick again, either. So, believe me when I tell you, I'm fine sitting here. Besides, I don't want you to spend your vacation worrying about me." 

"It's our vacation, Chief. We've both had a rough couple of months and we both need the rest. So, how's this? I'll try not to worry...too much," Jim smiled, "and you'll try to take extra good care of yourself. Deal?" 

"Deal." Blair took a sip from the cup held tightly in his hands. "So...you didn't answer my question. How are the waves?" 

Still crouched down, Jim shifted around to gaze at the ocean. "Perfect! Didn't you see me ride that baby in, smooth as silk?" 

Blair laughed. "What I saw was you going ass over surfboard into the briny deep!" 

"Once!" Jim said loudly, sounding terribly affronted. "I wiped out once." 

"Then apparently I missed your 'smooth as silk' rides," Blair teased, trying his best not to laugh. Failing, he let out a giggle. "Go on," he said, shooing his lover away. "Go show me what you can do." 

Leaning forward, Jim placed a kiss on the coffee-flavored lips. "Mmm...tastes good. Save some of that for when I get back." Standing up, he grabbed his board. "Right now, I hear the waves calling me." 

"And I know what they're calling you, too," Blair shouted after the larger man. "Sucker!" 

Blair watched as his partner entered the water and began to paddle out over the waves. He hated that Jim worried about him. Not that he didn't want Jim to care; it was just that, as Jim had said, this had been a rough few months for both of them and he wanted Jim to be able to relax and have some fun. But, because of him and his impaired lungs, Jim never seemed to relax. 

After his drowning at the fountain, Blair had spent a few days in the hospital. When he found out that Jim and Simon had taken off to Sierra Verde, he checked himself out and, along with Megan, followed the two detectives south. He never considered what damage his actions would cause to his already weakened lungs. 

But upon his return to Cascade, Blair came down with bronchitis and spent weeks choking and battling a fever, struggling to simply breathe. Even then, he chalked it up to his overall weakened state and thought nothing more of it. 

Then, two weeks after graduating from the academy, at the top of his class, Blair came down with pneumonia. What started out one day as an annoying cough, turned into three weeks in the hospital, one of which he spent in and out of consciousness, with a temperature of 105. His release was followed by another two weeks spent recuperating at home before he was fit to return to work. And Jim had been with him the entire time, never leaving his side. 

It was during this hospital stay that the doctors gave him the news. Because of the impurities in the fountain's water and the amount he had taken in, the drowning had caused permanent damage. Although he would be able to continue working, he could experience shortness of breath. He may even develop asthma. And, for the rest of his life, he would be especially susceptible to bacterial or viral infections. 

Since then, Jim had taken it upon himself to monitor the younger man even more closely than he had before. The moment any congestion was detected, Blair was whisked to the doctor, medication was obtained and Jim went into full 'Mother Hen' mode. 

Not that Blair wasn't grateful. The bout with pneumonia had scared the shit out of him and he never wanted to feel that bad again. But it seemed that Jim never got a chance to relax, always being on alert, and Blair felt responsible. 

So, when Jim had suggested this vacation, Blair was determined that his lover was going to enjoy himself. But even that hadn't worked out the way he'd planned. The morning of their cross-country flight, Blair woke up coughing. Jim was ready with his medication and Blair hoped that, this time, it wouldn't turn into anything else. By the time they landed in Florida, however, Blair had a fever of 102 and, even with his inhaler, had trouble drawing a breath. 

That had been four days ago. Three of those days he barely remembered, thanks to waking hallucinations and fevered nightmares. The only consistency through it all had, once again, been Jim. Whether it was a cool compress for his head, rubbing his back to ease the choking or simply holding him and rocking him to sleep, Jim was always there. 

Then yesterday Blair woke with his temperature back to normal and only an occasional cough. Although he still had some tightness in his chest, he felt one hundred percent better. 

It had taken him all day to convince Jim that he was, indeed, recovered. It was only after dinner last night, the first full meal that Blair had eaten, that the younger man was able to wrangle a promise from Jim that he would take the next day for himself, to do what he wanted to do. As they lay in bed last night, Blair wrapped comfortably in Jim's arms, the older man admitted that he had hoped to get in a little surfing on this trip. So, as sleep overtook them, plans had been made. Jim would surf, Blair would watch and, finally, they'd begin their vacation. 

Now he sat, bundled up under multiple layers, hot coffee in his hands, watching the man he loved playing in the water and Blair could think of only one word. 

Perfect. 

* * *

Jim paddled out over the incoming waves, his hearing still locked on his lover. Blair's breathing was more regular, with only minimal congestion. His heartbeat, which just days before had been erratic, was now strong and steady. But Jim knew it wouldn't take much to bring it all back again. So he stayed on alert. 

Blair was determined that Jim enjoyed himself. The kid felt guilty that he kept getting sick. He felt guilty that Jim was forced to take care of him. What Blair didn't seem to understand was that this was all Jim's fault. If Jim hadn't pushed him away, if he hadn't turned on the person most important in his life, Blair would never have ended up face down in that fountain, dead. 

Blair didn't know about the promises Jim made, as he knelt there on the grass, begging for his lover's life. Promises to always be there, to always take care of him, promises to never let him down again. And, as the younger man drew in those first, faltering breaths, Jim swore to keep every one of those promises. 

But he had let his partner down again when he ran off to Sierra Verde. Instead of staying at Blair's side, taking care of him, keeping him safe, he had chased Alex Barnes south, and Blair, in selfless concern for his Sentinel, had followed. And had suffered permanent harm. 

Since Blair's bout of pneumonia, when they had learned the extent of his lung damage, Jim monitored his lover every day. Using his Sentinel hearing, he listened for any congestion. He also checked his temperature, heart rate and any other indication that something wasn't right. And at the first sign of trouble, Blair's doctor was consulted, medications were administered and Jim held vigil until all was returned to normal. 

And in the year since the pneumonia, Blair had suffered only one minor infection. Then the fates had conspired against them. 

In the past two months, they had worked a case against an international gunrunner and broken the pipeline of a major drug cartel, with not one, but two murder cases sandwiched in between. With running down leads, interviewing witnesses, sitting stakeouts and, finally, breaking the cases, neither man seemed to get enough sleep or a decent meal the entire time. 

When all that was left was the paperwork, Jim picked up the faint rumblings in Blair's chest. He decided a vacation was in order. But other than knowing that he wanted to take Blair away, he had no idea where they should go. A scheduled lunch with his father solved that question for him. 

* * *

"I don't know, Dad," Jim said, leaning back in his chair, his eyes scanning the study of his father's house. At Blair's urging, Jim made an effort to meet his father for lunch at least once a month. But because of his recent schedule, this was their first chance to get together in over two months. Now, after one of Sally's fabulous meals, the two men sat in front of the fire, catching up. "I want to go someplace warm. Someplace sunny." 

Bill Ellison nodded as he got out of his chair. "Wait here a moment," he said as he left the study. A few minutes later, he returned and extended a closed hand to Jim. 

Not quite sure what was going on, Jim put out his hand, palm up and caught the keys that dropped from his father's fist. 

"What are these?" he asked, examining the two keys linked together by a small chain. 

"They're to the house in Florida." Bill smiled at the confusing on his son's face. 

"Florida? I didn't know you had a house in Florida." 

Reclaiming his seat by the fire, Bill explained, "I bought it about five years ago, thinking I'd use it for vacations. It's right on the beach, close to the golf course... I thought it would be perfect. But after surviving a few cross country flights, I decided Palm Springs was easier." 

"So why didn't you sell it?" Jim asked, still fingering the keys. 

"Steven uses it occasionally and, I thought...well...that you might..." His words faded away as he watched his son, hoping his meaning was clear. 

"You want me to use it?" 

"Well, you and Blair, of course." Seeing the skeptical look on his son's face, Bill smiled. "I happen to like the young man. I may not understand your relationship, but I do know this: Blair is intelligent, funny and he keeps up with you, so he must be strong. And he seems to make you happy." Bill turned away, looking into the fire, his voice almost a whisper. "That's all I ever wanted for you, Jimmy. To be happy." 

"I know that, Dad." Jim reached across the space that separated them, patting his father's knee. "I didn't always, but I do now. And the fact that you like Blair and accept his place in my life makes me happier than you can imagine." 

The older man turned to face his son and Jim could see the sparkle in his eyes. Whether it was from the light of the fire or restrained emotions, Jim wasn't sure. Then he felt his father's hand come to rest on his. 

"How could I not like him, Jimmy? He brought you back to me." 

* * *

Armed with the keys, two newly purchased airline tickets and two weeks off from Simon, Jim returned to the loft to surprise his partner. Blair reacted as Jim was sure he would...all bubbling excitement and a head full of plans. There were animal reserves to visit, miles of beach to explore and "...Oh, Jim, you have got to see the Everglades!" Jim smiled as Blair continued to fill him in on every obscure fact about Florida known to man. He just hoped the weakness in his lover's chest would recede and allow the younger man to enjoy himself. 

But it didn't and the past few days had been spent fighting another infection. But even that was passing. 

Jim looked back to the young man huddled on the beach. He raised his arm and waved, hoping that Blair could see him. A return wave assured him he had his lover's attention. With a quick look behind him, Jim caught the next wave, hoping to ride it into the beach. 

An unpredictable moment and Jim was flying through the air, his surfboard heading in the other direction. He hit the water hard. Then, after a stunned moment, he broke the surface. He immediately looked toward the beach. 

* * *

Blair watched as Jim lost the wave and went under, the surf pounding down on top of him. His momentary panic abated when he saw his lover's head break the surface. He saw Jim wave, then begin swimming after his board. Blair relaxed back into his cocoon, and watched as Jim paddled back out past the breakers. 

Blair never had been a great swimmer and, although he'd tried it, surfing wasn't something he did very often. He knew Jim enjoyed it and had even agreed to let the bigger man take him out and give him a few lessons. But that was before the fountain. 

He wouldn't try it now. Both men knew it. Blair watched as Jim caught a wave. As he admired the balance and athleticism necessary to temporarily harness the power of the ocean, Blair mourned the missed opportunity. 

_Snap out of it!_ Blair told himself. _Look what you've got. You're on a Florida beach, you've got a gorgeous man who loves you. Be thankful for that!_

He watched as Jim rode the wave, twisting and cutting across the swell. As Jim eased into the shallows, Blair cheered, applauding the perfect ride. Jim grabbed his board and came up the beach, dropping it into the sand. 

"Now that was perfect," Blair admitted as he tossed Jim a towel. 

Jim accepted the praise as he dried himself off. "And you had your doubts." 

"Never, man. I knew you could do it." Blair handed Jim his coffee. "Here. You look cold." 

Sipping the hot liquid, Jim agreed. "The water is a bit chilly." 

Blair pulled off his topmost blanket and held it out to his lover. "Here. Put this on." 

"I've got an idea." Jim wrapped the blanket around his shoulders, moved behind the smaller man, and sat down, pulling Blair against his body. He wrapped his legs and arms around his Guide, enclosing them both in the cocoon of warmth. "Now this is better." 

"Definitely," Blair agreed. Leaning back, he tilted his head, giving Jim full access to his lips. 

Never one to pass up an opportunity, Jim kissed his lover, tasting coffee, toothpaste, mouthwash and, finally, the sweetness that was Blair. While his lips were occupied, his hand burrowed beneath the layers of clothes. Finally feeling the younger man's chest through the sweatshirt, he began massaging the tightness he could sense. 

"How's it feel?" Jim asked softly when their lips parted. 

Blair sighed, knowing Jim wasn't talking about the kiss. "It's still a bit congested, but I'm fine. Really." 

He looked up at pale blue eyes, wishing that Jim would, just this once, forget about his sickness and relax. As if sensing the plea, Jim nodded, his hands continuing their movements. 

"It's going to be a warm day," Jim ventured as he surveyed the horizon. "I bet it feels good to get out of the house." 

"Yeah, it does." 

Jim sighed and tightened his embrace, snuggling the smaller man closer to his chest. This was what he lived for, these moments of perfection. Nothing could possibly get better than this. 

"I'm sorry." 

Stunned by the whispered words, Jim tried to keep the confusion out of his voice. "Sorry about what, babe?" 

"Sorry for ruining your vacation. You work so hard and all you wanted to do was get away and relax, have a good time. Then I go and get sick, _again,_ and you're forced to take care of me. I'm sorry for being so much trouble." 

Jim rested his chin on Blair's shoulder, pressing his face against the windblown curls. "Let's get a few things straight here, Chief. First and foremost...I love you. Taking care of you isn't something I'm forced to do. It's something I want to do. I'll always want to take care of you. Second, you can't help getting sick. Being..." Jim paused. Even after all this time, he had trouble talking about that frightening day. "...Being in the fountain did permanent damage to your lungs. You have to know that isn't your fault. Hell, a part of me knows that it isn't my fault, either." 

Blair turned to stare over his shoulder, giving Jim a look of shocked disbelief. 

"Don't look at me like that, Chief," Jim chuckled. "I said, a _part_ of me. There's still the `Blessed Protector' part that says I'm to blame." 

"Well, you're not!" The younger man was emphatic. 

"And you're not, either. But we're both paying the price for that day. It's a fact of our lives. The only thing you can do is take care of yourself." 

"I try to, Jim." 

"I know you do, Chief. And the only thing I can do is to be here for you when that doesn't work." 

"But you're always monitoring me, listening to my lungs. I know you do it every day and you shouldn't have to. You should be using your senses for important things." 

"There's nothing more important than you, sweetheart. Yes, I monitor you. And why shouldn't I? If I can use my senses to protect my `tribe,' why can't I use them to protect the person I love the most?" He gave the smaller man a little squeeze. "Huh?" 

"I guess." Blair sighed again, not yet willing to give up the point. "But what about your vacation?" 

"This isn't just _my_ vacation. This is _our_ vacation, remember?" 

"Yeah," came the sullen reply. 

"I mean it. You work just as hard as I do, if not harder, and we both need the time to relax. So, the first couple of days weren't what we wanted them to be." Jim shrugged. "That's life. We still have ten days. That should be enough time to see at least some of the sights you told me about." 

"We really don't have to do any of that." 

"Why not?" Jim turned a bit to get a closer look at Blair's face. 

"Well, you wanted to go surfing..." 

"And I'm doing that today. But I want to do other things, too. Were those stories you told be about the Indians true?" 

"The Seminole?" Blair nodded. "Yeah." 

"Then I'd like you to show me those places. And the Everglades." Jim shook his head. "I didn't realize how interesting they could be. I just thought it was all swamp." 

"Man, they are so much more that that!" Blair sat up a bit straighter, really getting into the subject. "The wildlife, the groves, the whole ecosystem is amazing. You have got to see it." 

"Then we will. How about tomorrow we rent a car and you can be the tour guide?" 

Jim was rewarded by a smile that put the sunrise to shame. "Cool!" 

The excitement in Blair's eyes made Jim laugh. He knew that by tomorrow, Blair would have an entire agenda planned. Tightening his embrace, he buried his nose in the dark, salt-scented curls, nuzzling his lover's ear. "You ready to go back inside?" 

"Not yet." Blair snuggled closer, enjoying the warmth and strength of Jim's love. "I want to stay like this for just a bit longer." 

"Like this?" Jim teased, wrapping even more of himself around the smaller man. 

"Yeah," Blair chuckled, "this is...perfect." 

* * *

End 

Perfect by Shamaness: brianna441@aol.com  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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